


exposure

by melonlordnation



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: F/M, Found Family, Gen, I'm Sorry, References to weed, Toph Beifong and Zuko are Siblings, appa is a dog, background tyzula, group chat antics occur, inconsistent updates, ish, katara toph and aang are roommates, mature language, momo is a cat, shenanigans ensue, sokka and suki live across the hall, they drink, they may as well spend the lockdown together, various coping mechanisms, zuko lives on the floor above them
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:20:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28003785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melonlordnation/pseuds/melonlordnation
Summary: Another take on the pandemic, in which Katara initially panics, Toph couldn’t care less, Aang spends too much time on Tik Tok, Sokka’s a gamer, Suki sleeps when she wants to, and Zuko really just wants to not get sick.It’s their lockdown, and they’ll choose the coping mechanisms, thank you very much.
Relationships: Azula/Ty Lee (Avatar), Sokka/Suki (Avatar)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 36





	1. March 18: Katara

**Author's Note:**

> disclaimer: please do not take advice on how to handle the pandemic from a fanfiction of all places

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s a cheap shot and she knows it, but that doesn’t stop Katara from hurling a fluffy throw pillow at her blind roommate. 
> 
> (Katara learns that her roommates are handling the sudden outbreak of the virus very differently than she is.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> disclaimer: please don’t take advice on how to handle the pandemic from a fanfiction of all places. follow local and national guidelines and stay safe out there!

Katara lowers the volume on the TV, her hand twitching around the remote anxiously. “We absolutely _cannot_ be around more than ten people. Eight, counting each other and Aang, so choose wisely.”

“About that…”

Katara collects all of her patience before facing Toph, who’s sprawled in the loveseat adjacent to the couch. “What did you do?”

Toph reaches around her body to scratch at her back. It’s awkward to watch, but Katara supposes Toph doesn’t give a single shit about that. “Monday I went to the gym with Sokka. I also got lunch with Zuko on Sunday.”

“Toph!”

“What? How were we supposed to know there would be a virus outbreak between yesterday and today? And you brought dinner to your brother and Suki last night!”

Katara stares at the muted news anchors on the TV, and at the banner on the screen reading something to the tune of _30,000 cases reported so far._ “Apparently it’s been here longer than we thought. We’re already up to five people each, plus anyone else they’ve been around.”

“Choose wisely,” Toph mocks her, a snarky grin curling up the edges of her lips.

It’s a cheap shot and she knows it, but that doesn’t stop Katara from hurling a fluffy throw pillow at her blind roommate. 

“Hey!”

“Where’s Aang now?” Katara’s eyes dart to the whiteboard hung in their kitchen area to see if their other roommate left a note, but of course he didn’t.

“He’s probably on his way home from the pet store. He said something about more food for Momo before he left.”

“What time did he leave?” 

Toph shrugs. “I dunno, noon?”

Katara taps on her electronic watch and waits for the glowing numbers to appear. “It’s almost 4:30 now!”

There’s no way he’s been at the pet store for that long, which means he could have gone anywhere and been around _anyone._ Katara groans inwardly, maybe a little outwardly, and retrieves her keys from the bottom of her purse. “I’m going across the hall to make sure Sokka’s home and Suki’s not going anywhere. If Aang comes back before I do—” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Toph waves her off, “I’ll give him a kiss for you.”

Katara barely registers the teasing at Aang’s expense; her brain is busy creating a to-do list. “—send him straight to his room. We may be in a lockdown, but he’s going into quarantine.”

—————

After eight months of living with them, nothing should surprise Katara anymore. _Surprised_ barely describes her reaction when she opens the front door to see Toph hasn’t moved from her spot in the living area but Aang’s perched at the bar, eating a bowl of cereal. 

Aang’s still got Cheerios in his mouth when he wipes away the soy milk mustache and says “Hey Kachawa.”

“No.” Katara stays several feet away from him and points down the hallway with a snap of her fingers, like she’s talking to Appa instead of his owner. “I love you, I really do, but you can’t be in here. We don’t know if you’ve been exposed.”

“C’mon, there were, like, six people at PetSmart!”

Katara’s about to bring up the fact that he was gone for four and a half hours when she hears the most annoying sound in the world: someone who’s reached the bottom of an empty cup and still sucks on the straw like more of their drink will magically appear. 

That someone just happens to be Toph. And she’s unapologetically slurping air through a metal straw in a metal coffee cup that Katara knows belongs to Aang.

Katara points in Toph’s direction accusatorily, still locking eyes with Aang. “How many people were at Starbucks?”

Aang blushes. “I don’t know!”

“More than ten?”

“Maybe.” Aang rubs the back of his neck and he won’t look at Katara, and that’s all the confirmation she needs.

“And Toph, you drank that? You don’t know who made it!”

The air-sucking stops. “You think I ever know who makes my drinks?”

Aang hops up from the bar and pads over toward Toph. “I’ll wash that if you’re done with it.”

Katara’s fists find her hips. “Seriously guys? Are you even listening to me?”

“Okay, okay.” Aang sets the empty cup in the sink, followed by his cereal bowl. “I’ll go to my room if that’ll be safest. I put your drink in the fridge.” 

It’s a sweet gesture, but if it’s an attempt to butter her up, it won’t work. “It will be. Don’t even think about coming out for the next two weeks. And thank you for the drink.” 

Toph snorts. “Ha! You got grounded, Aang!”

Katara turns on her. “I have half a mind to quarantine you, too! This is serious, and we don’t know any of the long-term effects, or how long this thing is gonna last. I don’t want to take any chances.”

It’s only after Aang’s in his bedroom and Toph is passed out on the loveseat that Katara realizes dish duty has fallen on her shoulders yet again. _Good,_ she thinks. With both roommates out of the way, she can properly disinfect their entire apartment.

—————

**gaang gaang**

**Katara**

Does everyone have good cleaning supplies?

**Sokka**

we got a multipurpose cleaner and clorox wipes

**Katara**

Multipurpose or multi-surface? There’s a difference

**Sokka**

idk it gets everything clean

**Zuko**

Yeah but how often do you use it?

**Suki**

he doesn’t, i do, and at least once a week

**Sokka**

i literally cleaned the bathroom mirror yesterday!!

**Katara**

With a multipurpose/surface cleaner?!?

**Suki**

is THAT where those streaks came from??

**Zuko**

I’m begging you to buy real glass cleaner

**Aang**

i miss you guys already <3

**Suki**

where are you??

**Toph**

He got put in the slammer for two weeks

_Sent with Siri_

**Aang**

it’s been so long...i don’t remember what the sky looks like

**Zuko**

Open your curtains dumbass

**Katara**

That’s what you get for going out during a pandemic

**Aang**

i didn’t know there was a pandemic :(

**Sokka**

dude even i knew there was a pandemic

**Aang**

okay i knew it existed but i didn’t know it was here! give me a break!

**Sokka**

are you allowed to shower and stuff?

**Aang**

yeah i’m not gross (or sick) 

**Toph**

So I hear we’re not allowed to see more than ten people now

_Sent with Siri_

**Zuko**

Stay away from me. I have to make sure my uncle’s taken care of.

**Suki**

how are you going to do that? we’re in a lockdown :/

**Sokka**

yeah what if you get stopped by a cop or something

**Zuko**

I’ll burn that bridge when I get to it

**Toph**

I see a bee

_Sent with Siri_

You know what that was supposed to say

_Sent with Siri_

**Suki**

you mean cross that bridge?

**Zuko**

You heard me

**Toph**

ACAB

_Sent with Siri_

**Katara**

We’ve already all been exposed to each other so idk how safe that is

**Aang**

exactly! so why do i have to stay locked up!

**Sokka**

katara i can smell the fkn bleach from here

**Suki**

can i borrow that when you’re done?

**Katara**

PLEASE do

**Sokka**

wait hear me out

**Toph**

No

_Sent with Siri_

**Sokka**

if we’ve already been exposed to each other couldn’t we still see each other?

**Aang**

i like your funny words magic man

**Zuko**

…..

**Katara**

We’ll see how this plays out

**Suki**

realistically… (he’s right)

**Katara**

I don’t want to take any chances  
  


But we’ll see

—————

Katara adopts a simple daily schedule over the next week: wake up, check for new e-mails, make breakfast and leave a tray outside of Aang’s door, work out, shower, jump on various Zoom calls for classes, make lunch and leave a tray outside of Aang’s door, obsessively clean whatever sticks out to her that day, Netflix break, make dinner and leave a tray outside of Aang’s door, shower for real, homework, Netflix again until she falls asleep. Wash, rinse, repeat the next day.

“Why can’t we just order in?” Toph asks more than once.

“Because it gets expensive and we still have rent to pay,” Katara answers more than once. 

Fucking _rent_ is due in a week and she hasn’t been able to work in a week. Katara would absolutely love to take a break from cooking every day, but they’ve got to be mindful of their money, especially now. She rummages through the fridge for leftovers from earlier in the week, trying to piece together a decent lunch for the three of them.

Ordering food is expensive, but so are groceries, and in a few days they’ll need to buy more. Another expense to add to the ever-growing list.

That’s not a good enough answer for Toph. “I will literally pay for dinner if you don’t make brussels sprouts again. They stink up the whole apartment.” 

It’s easy to forget that Toph comes from money because she doesn’t flaunt it often. She practically lives in leggings or sweatpants and a sports bra. She gets just as excited about coupons in the mail as Katara does. She even helps scrounge for change between the couch cushions before Aang makes his trips to whatever coffee shop he’s decided is “the new move.”

It’s easy to be resentful of the fact that Toph comes from money. She doesn’t have to worry about saving up enough for rent, or if her showers are too long, or if she falls asleep with the lights on. But it’s times like these when Katara is grateful for her friend’s obscene wealth.

Katara pulls the Tupperware of brussels sprouts out of the fridge; Aang will eat them without complaint. “Deal. What are we ordering?”

“Ooh, that’s a question for later. I’m not hungry right now.”

That catches Katara by surprise. Toph isn’t one to turn down a meal. “But it’s lunchtime.”

Toph joins Katara at the fridge and pulls out a bottle of water. “I’m not really feeling it.”

“Are you feeling okay? You don’t have _it_ do you?”

Toph chugs half of the bottle in one go and burps before answering. “I’m fine, _mom._ There’s just not a lot to do in here to work up an appetite.”

Katara eyes her smaller friend suspiciously. “Okay then. I’m about to get on my class calls, but if you get hungry, tell me.”

“Will do.” Toph heads toward the hallway leading to her bedroom, but stops at the entryway. “Do you think we’ll be able to hang out with everyone soon?”

Katara sighs. “We’ll see.”

“You’ve been saying that for a week. I’m tired of talking to Aang through his door. He feels fine, you know.”

“I know. I miss everyone, too. I just—”

“Don’t want to take any chances,” Toph recites with her. “I get it, I don’t want to either. I was just wondering.”

That breaks Katara’s heart because she _knows_ Toph hates being shut out by people, and though they’ve only been locked down for a week, it’s taken a noticeable toll on her. Katara bites her bottom lip and mulls it over while waiting on the mixed veggies to heat up in the microwave.

_If Aang really isn’t sick and we all were around each other anyway…_

She leaves the tray outside of Aang’s room like clockwork. Her knuckles rap on the doorframe, letting him know lunch is ready. From the other side of the door Momo meows like he _knows_ Katara’s there. 

“Hey buddy,” she says softly in the embarrassing voice reserved for the four-legged residents of the apartment.

Momo’s paws fling out under the door, seeking either the food or Katara— she’s not sure which. 

She can hear Aang approaching the door, too. She backs away, but doesn’t dart down the hall like normal.

 _Like normal._ It’s only been a week; this is _not_ normal. Is it? Is this what the rest of their lives are going to be like?

Aang swings open the door, sees Katara, and immediately closes it to a small crack. “I didn’t know you were still here, sorry.”

“It’s okay.” For the first time in a week she takes in the sight of her roommate, who honestly doesn’t look sick, but has definitely looked better. The bags under his eyes speak for themselves. “Have you been sleeping?”

“Not during regular people hours,” Aang admits, “but yeah.”

She can tell, but she doesn’t say that. Sometimes late at night she can hear various TV themes and Tik Tok audios coming from his room.

Katara clears her throat. “Toph’s buying dinner tonight. We don’t know what yet, so if you have any suggestions, just let us know.”

Aang doesn’t hesitate. “Pizza.”

With that one word, Katara sees the sparkle burst back into Aang’s eyes, and it’s a welcome sight. “I’ll ask Toph if that’s okay with her. From the place down the street with the vegan pizza, of course.”

Aang beams. “Thanks Katara.” Momo wedges himself between Aang’s legs, trying to make a break for it through the crack in the door. Aang laughs and scoops his cat up in his arms. “Momo, we’ve talked about this.”

Katara raises on her tiptoes, trying to see more into Aang’s room. “How’s Appa doing?”

“Oh, you know,” Aang’s stroking Momo’s head, “not going to the park has turned him into a lazy guy, but he’s still a great cuddler.”

“That’s good to hear.” 

Katara’s undoubtedly a strong woman, but in that moment she caves into weakness. She marches into her bathroom, digs in the cabinet until she finds her thermometer, douses it in rubbing alcohol and hot water for good measure, and returns to Aang’s doorway to shove it into his hands.

“It’s been a week. If you haven’t had a fever yet, you probably won’t. Take your temp now and right before we order the food. If you’re all good, come eat with us.”

The light returns to Aang’s eyes once again. “Sweet.”


	2. March 25: Sokka and Suki

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group has a theory that they share one collective brain cell. They don’t get to decide when they have it, and they often don’t know they have it until they realize the other five are complete buffoons. 
> 
> (After accepting the fact that they’ve all been exposed to one another, Toph buys dinner for everyone.)

Sokka’s about halfway through a livestream when Aang’s text comes in.

**Aang**

I’M FREE! toph ordered pizza, you guys should come over!

He pauses the game and apologizes to his Twitch viewers for the short stream before logging off and shooting a text back.

**Sokka**

bet

He walks over to the bed and nudges Suki, who’s somehow still asleep at 6:00 p.m. “Babe.”

She barely moves. 

Sokka shakes her more insistently. “ _Babe._ ”

“What?” Suki grumbles out, eyes still shut.

“Toph ordered pizza.”

“‘kay? They gonna bring us some?”

“Noooo,” Sokka pokes at Suki’s sides, loving the way she curls up to try and avoid the inevitable tickling. He sits on the edge of the bed, waiting for her to show more signs of life. “Aang said we could go over there.”

“In a minute.” Suki pulls the comforter tighter around her, and that just won’t do at all. 

Sokka pulls the blanket away from Suki and tugs on her hand. “It’ll be cold in a minute, silly. Put on some pants and let’s go.”

Suki pushes herself upright unceremoniously and stretches. “I haven’t had to wear pants in a week. If we get over there and Katara kicks us out—”

“We’ll steal a box of pizza on the way out,” Sokka promises.

Her hair’s sticking up in a thousand different directions, remnants of errant mascara are smudged under her eyes, and Sokka thinks she’s never looked more beautiful. He leans in to kiss her, only for Suki to divert at the last second.

“I have morning breath.”

For good measure, Sokka glances at the clock on the nightstand. Just as he suspected, it’s 6:02 p.m. “It’s nighttime. How do you have morning breath?”

Suki yawns then, confirming that yes, she does have morning breath. “I didn’t go to sleep until, like, ten this morning. This pizza breakfast is about to slap.”

 _Pizza breakfast._ Could she be any more perfect?

“Come onnn.” Sokka drums on Suki’s bare thighs. “We’ve probably got twenty minutes until Aang starts asking if we’re coming.”

“Good.” Suki slips out of their bed and steps into the bathroom. “That means I have time to do something about my hair.”

Sokka rolls his eyes. “It looks fine!” Suki swings around the doorframe and eyes Sokka pointedly. He holds his hands up in defense. “Okay, it’s had better days.”

Less than five minutes later, Suki’s managed to brush through and straighten all of her short hair, which Sokka’s pretty sure has to be some kind of world record. His phone buzzes on the bed.

**Aang**

pizza’s here! you guys coming or what?

Okay, so Sokka’s time estimation was a little off, but they’d be there soon regardless.

Suki pokes her head out of the doorway again, this time with her toothbrush hanging out of her mouth. “Have you seen my purple scrunchie?”

Sokka’s ninety percent confident he saw that exact scrunchie a few hours ago, but object permanence is not one of his brain’s strong suits, so he just shrugs. “It’s around here somewhere.”

Suki gives up on the hunt and settles on a green scrunchie instead. She’s more awake now, and she honestly doesn’t care what color her hair tie is— she just wants to eat. Her green sweater is haphazardly slung across the back of Sokka’s desk chair; she slips it on and begins searching for a pair of real pants.

Grey sweatpants are real pants, right? They are today, even if they don’t belong to her, and even if she fishes them out of the hamper and does a smell-check before putting them on.

“Alright,” she says, giving herself a once-over in the full body mirror hanging from the closet door. “Let’s go.”

Like a true gentleman, Suki holds the front door open for Sokka and locks it behind them. When she turns around, she finds her purple scrunchie. It’s holding Sokka’s hair up. Suki smiles to herself; he’ll have that moment of realization later and they’ll laugh about it.

On the third knock, Aang opens the door. A huge smile breaks across his face. “Wow, real people! Long time no see!” 

He hugs them both when they step into the apartment and is shoving plates into their hands before they can toe off their shoes. As usual, Toph has claimed the entire loveseat for herself, and Katara’s sitting in the corner of the couch, her plate balanced on her lap.

Sokka eyes the closed pizza boxes suspiciously. “Which one is the fake pizza?”

“The fake pizza has spinach on it,” Toph answers from across the room. “We got that, a plain cheese, meat lover’s, and a thin crust supreme.”

Suki swears she can see her boyfriend’s eyes dilate at the words _meat lover’s._ She stacks a few slices of supreme on her plate and joins Katara on the couch. “So, what changed?”

Katara carefully leans over to grab her water bottle from the coffee table in front of the couch. “Nothing, really. I’m still worried about us catching it, but we’ve all been locked up for a week and no one’s gotten sick yet.”

“As long as we stay locked up, no one will get sick.” Unlike Katara with her water, Toph’s going to town on a glass of orange soda. “If we’re going to be miserable, we may as well be miserable together.”

“Not _all_ together,” Aang says, and it almost comes out as a pout. 

A quick head count reveals that he’s right; only five out of the six of them are there. Suki turns to Katara. “Where’s Zuko?”

Toph’s pout rivals Aang’s. “Not coming.”

“Not coming?” Sokka repeats, a slice of pizza halfway to his mouth.

“Not coming,” Katara confirms. “I texted him a while ago. He claims to be perfectly happy cooped up by himself.” 

“I sure wasn’t,” Aang says, bringing the two-liters of soda over to the living area. “And I still had you guys to talk to and bring me food.”

Suki swallows a bite of pizza. “Aang, that’s genius! If he doesn’t want to come here, we can bring ‘here’ to him. What kind of pizza does he eat?”

A hush falls over the small crowd. Suki looks around the room. “Come on, guys. We’ve ordered pizza this many times and no one knows what kind Zuko eats?”

“For sure not the fake pizza,” Sokka says.

Aang thwaps him on the shoulder— a habit he’s picked up from Toph. “It’s not fake pizza! It’s vegan!”

Katara’s suggestion comes out as more of a question. “We could just do one slice of each?” 

“I think pepperoni,” Toph finally says. 

“You didn’t _get_ pepperoni,” Aang reminds her.

Toph sticks her tongue out at Aang. “Because he usually picks them off and gives them to me.” 

Sokka stares at her. “So cheese pizza is what I’m hearing.”

Suki considers it. “That can’t be right. We’d know if it was just cheese pizza.”

This simple act of kindness is proving to be _so much harder_ than anticipated.

After much discussion, a spilled water bottle, and a few rounds of rock, paper, scissors, Sokka and Aang are on their way upstairs with a covered plate of cheese pizza.

“Ah ah.” Katara stops them in their tracks without moving from her spot on the couch. “Mask up. I’m not getting evicted because you two went around the building spreading diseases. On the hook by the door.”

Sure enough, a whole stack of medical face masks are hanging on a command strip by the front door. The boys grab one each and put them on as they leave.

—————

“Your mask is on backwards.” 

Sokka side-eyes Aang in the elevator. “I’m pretty sure _your_ mask is on backwards.”

Aang shakes his head. “Katara went over this with us. The white side goes out.”

“No, no. The blue side goes out. I remember because I made a joke about it bringing out my eyes.”

“I really think it’s the white side.”

“Google it.”

Aang reaches into his hoodie pocket and his eyes widen. “Uh, I think my phone is on the kitchen bar. You Google it.”

Sokka holds up the pizza plate. “My hands are kind of full, bud.”

“No problem. Which pocket is your phone in?”

And it’s not like Aang digging in Sokka’s pockets would be a problem— they’re _way_ past that point in their friendship— but Sokka’s brain goes on a tangent.

“Why wouldn’t you just hold the plate so I could do the Googling?”

Aang shrugs. “I thought you wanted to hold the plate.”

The elevator door dings open. 

Aang steps out first. “Does it really matter anyway?” 

Sokka shakes his head. “Probably not.”

—————

Aang knocks on Zuko’s door politely. “Hey, we brought food!”

The response from inside comes quicker than they expected. “Just leave it outside.”

Sokka kicks on the door. “Open up, pretty boy. We’re under strict orders to make sure you’re alive and well.”

The door opens just a hair— the chain is still securely fastened. Zuko peeks at them through the crack. His eyes find Aang’s face immediately. “Your mask is on backwards.”

Aang’s face falls. “Really?”

“Yes, really.”

Sokka tries not to look too triumphant as Aang hurriedly flips his mask around. “I told him to Google it in the elevator, but no, he was so sure he was right.”

Zuko arches a prim eyebrow. “You wouldn’t have gotten phone service in the elevator, anyway.”

The group has a theory that they share one collective brain cell. They don’t get to decide when they have it, and they often don’t know they have it until they realize the other five are complete buffoons. 

Apparently, it’s Zuko’s turn with the brain cell.

In an effort to change the subject, Sokka clears his throat and adopts what he thinks sounds like a Very Serious Doctor Voice. “How are you feeling today? No fever, chills, loss of taste, or anything like that?”

“Yes,” Zuko says dryly, “all of that and more.”

“Seriously,” Sokka drops the voice, “you good in there?”

“Yeah. Me and Druk are just hanging out.” An almost awkward beat later, Zuko realizes this is where normal people would return the question.

Aang beats him to it. “We’re all good, too. The apartment has never been cleaner and no one’s running a fever or anything.”

Another thought dawns on Zuko. “I still have one of her scrubbers.”

He doesn’t specify which ‘her,’ but it’s not like Aang and Sokka don’t know. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Aang assures him, “she’s got a whole box under the sink.”

That makes Zuko feel a little better, because he hadn’t intended on holding Katara’s cleaning sponge captive, but, well, life happened, and a week later the scrubber is still sitting on the rim of his bathtub. 

Sokka raises the plate in his hands. “You might wanna take this before I start eating it.”

It’s not an empty threat and Zuko knows it. He sighs loudly and closes the door, unlatches the chain, and swings it open just wide enough to accept the plate. 

Aang tries one more time. “Are you sure you don’t wanna come downstairs?”

Zuko shakes his head. “With my luck, we’ll be out of lockdown in a few days and I’ll wind up getting the virus somehow and then I won’t be able to go see Uncle.” Off of his friends’ concerned looks, he adds, “I’m fine, really.”

Aang visibly deflates. “If you say so.”

“Call us if you need anything.” Sokka mock-salutes at Zuko in a farewell.

Zuko gives a little half-wave in return. “Will do, Captain.”

The door clicks shut. The sound of the latch sliding into place solidifies it— the boys are returning empty handed. 

—————

Back in the apartment, the girls have knocked out all of the supreme pizza and most of the orange soda.

“No, it’s in the heels,” Suki’s telling Toph. They’re both standing, bent at the waist, hands on their knees. “Bend your knees a little more and just rock on your heels.”

“I _am_ rocking on my heels. I don’t feel anything.” Toph pauses. “Well, anything other than ridiculous.”

“There’s a little jiggle,” Katara encourages her from the couch. 

Suki thinks quickly. “Let’s try something different. Twist your hips instead.”

Toph turns her head in Suki’s direction. “How am I supposed to twist my hips when I’m bent over like this?”

“Just try it!” Katara knocks back the last of her second water bottle. 

Toph huffs. “Suki, I gotta be honest, I think shaking my ass would be a lot easier if I had an ass to shake.”

“Okay.” Suki straightens up and taps Toph on the back to signal for her to do the same. “Try twisting while standing, and then work your way into leaning forward. Not your upper body, just your hips.”

Toph winds up doing a weird side-to-side body roll. “I think the heel-rocking was working better.” 

“You’ve barely tried this! Come on, swing those hips!”

Toph tries again with slightly better results. When it’s time to lean forward, she completely loses it and goes back to the awkward rocking. Suki even tries putting her hands on Toph’s hips to physically move them, but that isn’t helping much. 

Suki releases Toph’s hips. “Let’s go back to the rocking. Think of it like you’re bouncing on the balls of your feet instead of rocking onto your heels.”

“Or like running in place, but without picking your feet up,” Katara suggests, thoroughly enjoying the unexpected comedy show that came with her dinner.

Toph cracks her knuckles and replaces her hands on her knees. “Running. Got it.”

Suki nods approvingly after a moment. “Just like that! Don’t be afraid to really feel it!” 

“Wider hips? More bounce?” Toph’s grasping for any sort of guidance because she still feels so stupid, and they’ve been at this for about ten minutes, but this might be her big breakthrough.

Suki claps her hands excitedly. “Yes! All of that!”

Of course, that’s when the front door swings open. All three girls freeze like they’ve been caught robbing a bank.

“Uh, what’s going on?” Aang asks, pulling his mask below his chin.

“Booty shaking,” Katara plainly informs him.

Aang disappears into the kitchen. “That’s what I thought.” 

“Well,” Sokka drawls, plopping onto the couch next to Katara, “don’t stop on our account. This is clearly an educational opportunity.”

“Wasn’t planning on it.” Toph goes through the motions again, focusing on the fake-running, because audience be damned she’s going to get this right.

“Less of your back,” Suki guides her. “Get more of your thighs in there.”

Katara’s attention drifts from the spectacle before her. “How’s Zuko?”

Sokka shrugs and picks up his previously-abandoned plate. “Same old, same old.”

“Did he look okay? Was the apartment a mess? Did we get the pizza right?”

 _So many questions._ Sokka runs through the answers in his head. “He looked like normal, I have no clue about the pizza, and we didn’t go in.”

Katara twitches. “You didn’t go inside?” _Boys._ Maybe she and Suki should have gone instead.

Sokka’s unbothered. “Hey, we’re lucky he even opened the door to take the food. I told him to call if he needs anything.”

That seems to relax Katara. “Good. I hope he does.”

Aang finally leaves the kitchen and discovers the booty shaking is still happening. Or, rather, trying to happen. He looks at Suki. “Have you tried starting with the hip thing?”

Toph straightens immediately. “That’s it, show’s over.”

“You don’t have to stop!” Five heads turn in Aang’s direction and he backpedals _so fast._ “I just meant it might be easier! You can, though, if you want. Stop. Or don’t. The hip thing just looks easier.”

Suki crosses to the couch. “By all means, Master Aang, show us how it’s done.”

Aang takes Suki’s place next to Toph, where Toph’s waiting with crossed arms, and he’s racking his brain for every tutorial that’s somehow wound up on his For You page. “It’s like a hula hoop, but without the hoop. And more subtle, I guess.”

Toph follows the vague instructions surprisingly well. “This is different,” she comments. 

“Now do the heel thing again. Don’t lean into it yet, get the movement first. But do it slower, that might help.”

Somehow, this is the best she’s done all night. Suki’s ego is a little bruised, but deep down she knows she laid the groundwork for this glorious moment.

“Now you can lean forward. Just a little bit. Take your time and make sure you’ve still got the movement.”

Katara leans over to Sokka again. “Maybe it’s a good thing Zuko didn’t come with you guys. I think he would have died of embarrassment if you guys walked in and saw this.”

Sokka smirks. “Are you kidding? I’ve been sending him snaps of this since we got here.”

—————

They walk back across the hall an hour later, pinkies interlocked. 

“I’m glad we went,” Suki says earnestly. 

Sokka jiggles the Ziploc bag full of leftover pizza. “Me too.” 

Finally in the privacy of their home, Suki tosses the sweatpants back in the hamper and crawls into bed. “Where’s the remote?”

“Either on my nightstand or lost in the blankets.”

Sokka puts the baggie in the fridge and makes a beeline for the bathroom, leaving Suki to search for the remote. She hears the shower turn on, followed by whatever lo-fi music Spotify has recommended to Sokka this week. 

Suki finds the remote under Sokka’s pillow. To her delight, the seventh season of Brooklyn Nine-Nine is available on Hulu. 

The bathroom door bursts open as soon as the theme music starts and Suki jolts— she didn’t expect to be caught watching their show without him so quickly. 

Sokka doesn’t seem to notice the familiar trumpets. “Babe. You’ll never guess what I just found.”

Suki tears her eyes from the TV screen to look at Sokka. He’s holding her purple scrunchie in between his thumb and index finger. 

She grins. He’s dripping wet and making a giant mess on the floor, the look on his face is so proud, and Suki’s never been more in love with him.


	3. April 7: Zuko

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Suki hasn’t baked any variety of goodies since New Year’s, and Zuko thinks maybe his problem this whole time has been withdrawals from friendship and chocolate alike.

“It’ll be over in a few days” is an extremely optimistic outlook, so much so that it surprises Zuko when he believes it wholeheartedly, and two weeks later when the lockdown is definitely still in place, he’s disappointed.

Not that he minds the isolation, of course; that’s relatively normal for him. It just sucks that before, solitude had been a choice, and now there’s no other choice. The reality grinds against every fiber of his being. Staying locked up was more fun before it was mandated.

Zuko likes to call his uncle two, maybe three times a week just to check in. Iroh’s not always the best at answering right away, but he’s busy managing the company that his brother nearly ran into the ground with ridiculous expansion plans and greed. 

The phone rings four times before the familiar voice comes through the line. “Who might this be?”

“Uncle!”

“No, I believe you have the wrong number. All of my uncles passed several years ago.” Iroh laughs at his own bad joke, and Zuko waits. “Hello, nephew. To what do I owe this pleasure?”

Zuko jumps right into it. “The pandemic. Again. How are you doing?”

“I’m as well as I was when you last called. Better, actually. Do you remember the Hao family?”

No, Zuko doesn’t remember the Haos, but he’s sure they’re among the hundreds of people wronged by Fire International, Inc. “What do they want?”

“You should be asking what they don’t want— which is a lawsuit against the company! We reached a settlement this morning without the assistance of a judge.”

Which should be reassuring, but Iroh’s an old man, and Zuko knows how easily the elderly are taken advantage of, especially when there’s money to be gained. “You had lawyers on the call, right?”

“Of course! I may be old, but I’m not stupid!” Iroh laughs again. Zuko relaxes a little, but he still wishes he’d heard about this _arrangement_ before it happened. Iroh changes courses. “So how are you doing in these trying times?”

Zuko groans quietly. _These trying times_ quickly became part of Uncle’s vocabulary, as if the phrase is lingo he picked up from younger employees rather than the current state of the world. “I’m doing fine.”

“Have you been eating well?”

Zuko’s eyes fly to the fridge. “Yes,” he lies, then switches to the truth, “I’m all stocked up on groceries.

It scares him sometimes how easily he can do that. He justifies it with the knowledge that he rarely does it and he at least feels bad about it, unlike Azula. Then again, she’s been manipulative since she was born.

“And your friends are doing alright?” 

“They sure act like it,” Zuko says, leaning against the edge of his couch. In all honesty, the group hasn't talked about the pandemic’s effects; it’s easier to laugh at the Tik Toks Aang sends in the group message at three in the morning than to be vulnerable.

But no one’s mentioned any hardships, so surely everyone is okay. Right?

“I’m worried about you,” Iroh admits. “Being alone for so long can’t be healthy.”

Ahh, the typical grandparent way of hinting that _maybe it’s time to find someone to settle down with._

Zuko gestures around the apartment as if Iroh can see him. “I’m not alone. I have Druk.” 

“Druk is a lovely lizard—”

“Bearded dragon.”

“—but you need some sort of human contact.”

Zuko pinches the bridge of his nose and his eyes squinch shut. “Uncle, human contact isn’t healthy right now, if that’s what you’re really so worried about.”

“You told me not a week ago that you were previously exposed to your friends, correct?”

He did let that slip. Zuko sighs. “Yes, which is why I’ve been staying by myself.”

“It’s been longer than the recommended two weeks, has it not?”

It has. “At this point we’ve all established how we’re dealing with this. I don’t think I’m a factor in that equation for them.”

The sentence feels more like a confession than a convenient lie. The whole group dynamic came out of nowhere, if Zuko’s perfectly honest. He buddied up with Sokka in some of their upper level courses, discovered Sokka’s girlfriend was the same Suki he’d been in a group project with in intro-level biology, and from there he’d been introduced to the younglings of the group and the six had been friends ever since.

Granted, the five were friends long before Zuko came around.

That’s just the way things are, which, really, is fine. Zuko’s perfectly content to work in the privacy of his apartment and watch mediocre TV by himself. The TV part is more fun with the others, but three weeks into lockdown, surely they’ve found a way to exist without him.

Iroh sounds wistful over the line. “You will never know unless you try. I’m sorry, Nephew, I have a business call I need to take.”

“It’s fine. I’ll call you in a few days.”

The apartment goes silent yet again. 

—————

Zuko’s sorting his laundry by color when a knock comes on his front door. He carefully steps around the piles of dirty clothes and peeks through the eyehole.

“Yes?”

“It’s me,” says Katara’s voice, though the sight of her is distorted by the curved glass. “I brought you something.”

Zuko pulls the door open as far as the latch will allow. “What is it?”

Katara holds up a small basket absolutely packed with various items. The basket looks suspiciously like a get-well-soon gift. “It was going to be just another sponge because I figured you could use a new one, but I got a little carried away, and here we are.” 

“Oh.” This shouldn’t feel strange because this is Katara, and of _course_ she’s going above and beyond to look after everyone. Still, it’s the first time Zuko’s seen her in weeks. “Thanks.”

If his response is delayed, Katara doesn’t notice. She rifles through the basket and points out different items. “A bottle of hand sanitizer, two sponges, more multi-surface cleaner, a box of tissues, and some masks. Sorry they’re not still in the original package, Aang accidentally ripped the box, and I didn’t think you needed fifty masks anyway.”

Why’s she looking at him like that? And why does she bite her damn lip all the time? That can’t be comfortable.

“You should come over later,” Katara says, unprompted. “We’re having movie night.”

So the pizza party a few weeks ago wasn’t a one-time deal. Zuko sighs. “Katara, I thought you were on my side for this.”

Katara’s face scrunches, utterly confused. “I am? That’s why I’m here.”

“No, with the whole staying safe thing. You caved in quicker than I thought you would.”

“Trust me, we’re staying safe. None of us have left the building this entire time, we’re still scrubbing the apartments daily, and no one’s showing any symptoms.” What was it Suki said on pizza night? “We may as well be miserable together,” Katara quotes, proud of herself for remembering. 

First Uncle, now Katara. They’re really messing with his head. Zuko closes the door, undoes the latch, and reopens it to accept Katara’s gift. Just as his hands secure around the basket, Katara pulls it back.

“I’m cooking at five. _The Hangover_ starts at six.”

Zuko scoffs. “You think I’m coming downstairs for _The Hangover_ of all movies?”

Katara shrugs but doesn’t loosen her grip on the basket. “I think you’ll come downstairs because Suki’s baking brownies.” 

Hell, her brownies are to die for even when they aren’t Seth Rogen-approved. Suki hasn’t baked any variety of goodies since New Year’s, and Zuko thinks maybe his problem this whole time has been withdrawals from friendship and chocolate alike.

Zuko looks at Katara suspiciously. “What about you?”

Katara’s eyes glint with mischief. “I’ve been known to nibble on a good brownie.”

While she’s talking, Zuko tugs the basket out of her grasp. The small, shocked ‘o’ of her lips is just icing on the cake. “Thanks.”

“Five,” Katara reminds him sternly.

“Five,” Zuko repeats, pushing the door shut with his foot.

—————

He doesn’t wake up from his nap until 5:36, but it’s fine, because if Katara started cooking a half hour ago there’s no way the food is already done. It takes Zuko less than five minutes to slip on the first pair of shoes he sees, grab a mask from the basket, feed Druk, and wind up outside the apartment below his. 

Aang opens the door and immediately latches onto Zuko in a hug. “You’re alive!”

“Yeah.” Zuko pats Aang’s bald head. “And I’m hungry."

“You’re in luck,” Aang says, moving so Zuko can step inside. “Tonight’s theme is Hamburgers and Hangovers. Vegan patties optional.”

“I’ll pass,” Zuko says, kicking off his shoes in the pile by the door. He follows Aang further inside, where Katara’s in the kitchen working her magic and Toph is nowhere to be found. 

Aang drags him by the hand to the kitchen area. “Katara, look who I found!”

Katara barely glances up from where she’s slicing onions, but a pleased smile appears on her face. “Aang, what did I tell you about letting strays in the house?”

Aang plays along, his puppy dog eyes blinking, pleading. “Can we keep him?” 

Zuko snags a water bottle from the fridge and mutters something that sounds like, “You better keep me.” 

While Aang gets swindled into helping Katara prepare for dinner, Zuko drops onto the loveseat in the living room and pulls out his phone to pass the time. He’s more of a Twitter guy than anything else, but lately his feed consists of reused memes about the virus, bad projections of what the stock market’s going to look like in a few months, and people complaining about, well, everything. 

Within minutes of scrolling the front door bursts open. Sokka holds the door open while Suki enters, carrying a covered glass dish that smells absolutely divine. Given the pomp and circumstance, it takes them a minute to notice Zuko quietly sitting across the room. 

Sokka rushes over to greet him. “Dude, you’re here!”

“Careful hon,” Suki says, setting her dish on the countertop, “you don’t want to scare him off. Rumor has it he only comes out of hibernation once a year.”

Sokka backs away from the loveseat respectfully and crouches, holding an invisible camera in his hands. “Crikey! Look at ‘im, the majestic beaut!” 

Zuko nudges Sokka with his foot, sending Sokka sprawling on his ass. “Okay, Crocodile Hunter. What’s with everyone making animal jokes about me?”

“Everyone?” Sokka pushes himself to his feet and traipses to the bar, plucking a sliced pickle from the toppings tray. “Did you guys steal my joke?”

Aang looks a little too smug while peeling lettuce from the head. “Technically, we made it first.”

Toph’s bedroom door swings open and there she is, rocking a matching set of black leggings and a sports bra, hair wrapped in one of those towel-hats that Zuko’s never really understood the physics of. She leans against the doorframe and sniffs loudly. “It smells great in here!”

“It’ll be ready in the next few minutes,” Katara promises, pulling open the fridge door and surveying it for various condiments. “Someone grab the plates from the cabinet.”

“On it,” Suki says, squeezing between Katara and Aang to get to said cabinet.

Zuko sits up a little straighter in the loveseat. “Do you need help with anything else?”

Toph’s head whips in his direction at the sound of his voice, and before Katara can ask for any favors, she pounces on the loveseat and worms her way into the empty space between the side of the chair and Zuko. It’s a tight fit, even with Toph being as tiny as she is.

“You came!”

“Yeah,” Zuko says awkwardly, trying to find a more comfortable position to sit in, which is more difficult than one would think.

“ _A_ _nd_ you jacked my seat.” Toph lightly punches at his thigh, but she doesn’t sound too begrudged. 

“Don’t get too comfy yet,” Aang says to them, finally finished with setting up the tray of burger toppings. “It’s burger time!”

Zuko can’t help but note that it’s past 6:00, which is when the movie was supposed to start, but right now the kitchen is calling louder than Netflix. For as paranoid as he’d been about getting sick, there’s something comforting about being surrounded by these five. Everyone has unofficially official spots on the furniture, they look out for each other, they even keep track of each other’s sleep schedules so they know when to text who, whether it’s a serious question or one of the tired coronavirus memes. They’re like a mismatched little family that Zuko doesn’t want to think too deeply about the dynamics of, especially not when there are more pertinent things to think about, like how _fantastic_ this burger tastes.

They’re better company than his real family, at least.

It dawns on him that he hasn’t heard from anyone in his family other than Iroh since this whole lockdown began. Not that he expects to hear from Ozai, but Azula hasn’t even texted him, and she usually takes the initiative when they need to communicate. 

“-poison to share?”

Zuko blinks back into reality at _poison_ and sees Aang looking at him expectantly. “What was that?”

“We’re combining our resources and getting trashed,” Sokka fills him in. “You got anything upstairs you’re willing to part with?”

He thinks it through. “Uh, I’ve got like half a bottle of wine and some coconut rum.” 

It would have been convenient for Katara to mention this part of their festivities earlier; Zuko really doesn’t feel like going all the way upstairs just for that, but he also doesn’t want to be a mooch.

Sokka just nods appreciatively. “Finish that and I’ll go with you to grab it.”

Katara and Suki share an all-too-knowing look. “No you won’t,” Suki says, gesturing to her boyfriend’s almost empty plate. “That’s only your first one.”

The awe on Sokka’s face is almost comical as he looks between the kitchen and Katara. “You made more than one for me?”

“Yeah,” Aang says with his mouth full, then swallows. “She said, and I quote, ‘I don’t want to listen to him bitch about how he’s starving an hour into the movie.’”

The siblings launch into full scale but good-natured bickering, sparing no snide comment at the other’s expense. It’s so different from the way Zuko and Azula used to argue, but it feels strangely familiar all the same.

A few minutes later, Toph leans over to Zuko. “If you’re done, I’ll go with you to grab the stuff.”

Zuko’s certainly thinking it, but he’s not about to be the one to tell Toph she’s not exactly dressed to leave the apartment. Fortunately, Aang jumps in before Zuko has to say anything.

“You gotta put on a shirt first. Our policy on clothes is more relaxed than the rest of the building’s.”

Toph heaves a heavy sigh. “Fine.” She carefully steps around the coffee table and makes her way toward her bedroom.

“And shoes,” Aang reminds her, and she groans as she disappears behind her door.

Katara begins collecting empty plates, even when the others protest, because _I’m a good hostess_ , and really, who are they to argue with that?

When Toph reappears moments later, the towel hat is gone, there’s a pair of fuzzy black slippers on her feet, and she’s still yet to put on a shirt. “I don’t have anything to wear,” she announces to the room.

“Really?” Katara extends her free hand to Zuko, and he politely hands her his empty plate. “You don’t have a single clean shirt?”

Toph shrugs. “Tomorrow’s laundry day.”

“Toph, laundry day was two days ago.”

“Nuh-uh. Tomorrow’s Sunday.”

Katara meets Zuko’s eyes in a look that screams _do you see what I have to deal with?_ “It’s Tuesday. April 7th.”

“Who keeps track of stuff like that?” Zuko watches Toph count something on her fingers, sees the clarity hit her face, and then she crosses her arms defensively. “Okay, so I missed laundry day.”

Aang tugs his hoodie off and balls it up. “I’ve got you. Heads up.”

The orange ball of fabric blurs across the living room toward Toph’s stomach. She fumbles the catch, but she manages to snag one of the sleeves before the whole thing hits the floor. “Thanks,” she says through the fabric as she tugs it over her head. She fires finger guns at Zuko. “Now I’m ready.”

Zuko knows he could have made it upstairs and back by now if he’d just left as soon as Sokka asked what he had, but now he’s got company. He pushes himself out of the loveseat and pats his pockets just to make sure his keys are, in fact, still there instead of lost in the abyss between the cushions. “C’mon.”

“Masks,” Katara reminds them.

 _Oh, yeah._ They’re an absolute necessity for going out and about, Zuko knows this, but he also hasn’t left his apartment in three weeks. He grabs two fresh ones from the hook by the door and turns to hand one to Toph, but she’s somehow already got one on. “Where’d you get that?”

“It was in the hoodie.”

Zuko stares at her for a solid ten seconds, baffled at the fact that not only is she reusing a mask, _she’s reusing someone else’s mask._ Toph steps past him and opens the front door, not at all concerned about where the mask has been or what kind of cooties Aang may be carrying.

\------

“I heard something about rum? I think we’ve still got some screwdrivers in the fridge, and I know Suki’s got good stuff at their place. Plus whatever shitty IPA Sokka’s hooked on for now.”

“Yeah, rum,” Zuko confirms as they head toward the elevators. “I don’t know what all we’ll be able to do with that.”

“Hey, if it gets the job done, I’m not complaining.”

Zuko’s not sure if he believes in miracles, but he doesn’t know how else to describe the fact that despite weighing around a hundred pounds, Toph’s not the lightweight of the group. He presses the button with the arrow pointing up and is surprised at how quickly the elevator comes until he remembers that not a single other person is leaving their residences. 

Toph leans against the wall in the elevator, her fists jammed into the hoodie’s front pocket. “What have you been doing while locked up by yourself?”

“Mostly work stuff. Dethroning the CFO of Fire International. Cleaning up his legal messes with my uncle.”

Toph’s not impressed. “Bo-ring. You did that anyway.”

“I got Druk a new lamp.”

“LED lights?”

Zuko shoots her an offended look. “Infrared.” 

“I was joking, my dude. You think I know what the fuck an LED light is?”

Yeah, he should’ve seen that one coming.

Toph tilts her head back and lightly bangs it against the wall three times. The metal echo reverberates through the elevator. “C’mon, nothing about work or your dragon. Tell me something juicy.”

“There’s not a lot of juice in my life these days, Toph. Sorry to disappoint.”

She bangs her head on the wall again, and this time, one of her hands wrenches from the hoodie pocket and rubs at the back of her head. “Okay, that one kind of hurt.”

The elevator _dings_ open and they make the short walk to Zuko’s apartment. “I can’t believe you’re living alone while there’s three of us living together right below,” Toph says, not for the first time.

Zuko’s keys jingle when he retrieves them from his jacket. “You don’t have to live with them.”

“It’s either live with them or get cut off by my parents, and then I’d have to move back in with them. Hard pass.”

Zuko’s well acquainted with being financially cut off, and then reinstated, and cut off again, and… so on. He’s eaten like a king and like an American college student in the same week. That kind of lifestyle adjustment is not for the weak of heart or stomach. 

His door swings open and Zuko heads straight for the kitchen, eager to grab his things and get out, lest he change his mind about going back. Then again, maybe that’s why Toph insisted on joining him. She’s standing at the end of his kitchen bar, still going on about her parents. 

“They literally met Katara once; they couldn’t care less if she was living with me, but she’s the responsible one! Aang though? Oh my _god,_ my dad has, like, a man-crush on him or something. All manners and philosophical and knows just enough about politics to sound smart. He stayed with me at my parents’ house for a while during winter break, and one night at dinner he and my dad really got invested in the record-breaking temperatures from last winter, remember that?”

“Uh-huh.” A small wave of guilt washes over Zuko because he’s only half-listening, but he can’t find that bottle of wine anywhere, and looking for it is taking up most of his brain power.

“I begged for a pet for my entire childhood and they said no, but then he rolls up with Momo and my parents are acting like they’ve never seen a cat before! Don’t even get me started on Appa. He explained what a therapy dog was, and they were like,” Toph puts on a voice that Zuko thinks is supposed to sound like Lao Beifong, “Toph, you should think about getting one of those.” She throws her hands in the air, exasperated. “No _shit!_ Have they never heard of service animals?”

The wine’s not in the cabinet or above the fridge; seriously, where is it?

“I swear, my parents only remember who Katara is because Aang talked about her every five seconds.”

Something about her tone sets off alarms in Zuko’s brain. If he learned anything from growing up as the poster child of a dysfunctional family, it was how to pinpoint negative emotions and navigate around them. Azula sounded the same way when it was announced that Zuko would be Iroh’s right hand at Fire International instead of her, even though she’d been well on her way to snagging a lower executive position when their dad still ran the company. 

She sounds _jealous._

Zuko turns around to face her, just to see if maybe he’s misreading her because he wasn’t entirely focused on her words. She’s leaning with her elbow on the kitchen bar, her face smushed in her hand, which is covered by the giant orange sleeve of the hoodie that doesn’t belong to her. 

_Holy shit. She has a crush on Aang._

Toph blows her still-damp bangs out of her face. “Did you find the alcohol or what?”

As a last minute effort, Zuko looks in the fridge, and _ta-da,_ there’s the bottle he was looking for. “Yeah, I got it.”

Toph’s nose crinkles up. “You kept it in the fridge?”

Zuko’s expression copies hers. “Uh, yeah.”

He can tell she’s about to let a sassy comment fly about why he didn’t look there in the first place, but he’s saved by the glow of his phone on the countertop. He’s missed three calls and several all-caps texts from Ty Lee, and now Mai is FaceTiming him. “Hold on, I need to take this call.”

When he clicks the green button to accept the call, he’s not greeted by Mai’s face. The camera is flipped so he has a perfect view of Ty Lee pounding on what he’s pretty sure is the bathroom door of his sister’s apartment. “Azula! Unlock the door!”

“No!"

“Give me the scissors!”

“ _No!_ ”

“ _You’re going to regret this so much!_ ”

The camera flips, and there’s Mai, sipping on a margarita. “They’ve been doing this for fifteen minutes. I’m surprised the neighbors haven’t called the cops.”

Zuko has absolutely no context; he’s not sure how worried he’s supposed to be, but Azula plus scissors plus locked bathroom door doesn’t sound like it can be anything good. “Is everything okay?”

Mai’s eyes dart away from the camera to where Ty Lee’s still yelling, then she focuses back on Zuko. “Your sister’s giving herself bangs.”

Off camera, there’s a thud, and then another “ _Azula!_ ” 

Mai giggles _,_ immediately giving away that she’s not on her first drink of the night. “She kicked the door.”

That answers exactly one of Zuko’s questions, and that one was not high-ranking in terms of importance. “But Azula’s okay?”

Toph snorts. “If she’s cutting her own bangs she’s definitely not okay. We’ve only been locked down for three weeks. I can’t believe she broke that fast.”

“Yeah, she’s fine,” Mai confirms after another offscreen thud. “She’s a little tipsy though. They’re gonna look so bad.”

There’s a muffled scuffle, followed by more yelling from Ty Lee that sounds decidedly less angry. Zuko’s not sure what to make of that; his sister and her girlfriend are equally dramatic. Usually Mai’s the one to break down and relay information to him, but her judgment’s obviously impaired.

Mai gives a tiny gasp. “Okay, okay. They don’t look that bad. I was a little nervous, but they don’t look terrible.” She flips the camera again, just in time for Zuko to see Ty Lee emerge from the bathroom brandishing the offending scissors. The camera flips again before he can see what his sister looks like.

Out of all of the failed haircut compilations online, and after drinking who knows how much, of _course_ Azula would be the one to manage to get it right. She’s never been anything less than perfect. This is no different.

Then again, maybe when the girls wake up, they’ll realize exactly how bad the haircut is. Any second now, Azula’s going to show up, and Zuko can see for himself whether he has new blackmail to hang over her head.

The call ends abruptly, leaving Zuko staring at his own reflection in the black screen. 

“Well?” Toph asks eagerly. “What did it look like?”

Zuko pockets his phone and grabs the bottles. “I don’t know. I think Mai’s phone died.”

Toph groans. “As soon as you see it, you’ve gotta tell me how bad it is.”

He passes the bottles to Toph and digs his keys out of his jacket again. “Oh, for sure.”

There’s only one thing better than ragging on Azula, and that’s ragging on Azula with a partner. Toph may not be his actual little sister, but she checks off all of the boxes Azula never did, so she may as well be at this point.

“Alrighty.” Toph raises her fists in the air, a bottle in each of them. “Let’s get blasted!”


End file.
